


The Man in the Woods

by SandM1827



Series: Son Shine AUs [4]
Category: Sons of Anarchy, Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst, Drama, M/M, Mentions of Suicide, Past Rape/Non-con, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-31
Updated: 2018-08-31
Packaged: 2019-07-05 03:21:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,251
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15855195
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SandM1827/pseuds/SandM1827
Summary: "The kids in town tell stories about me now..."





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Unbeta'd  
> In this AU Juice did not make it out of Stockton alive. It's set years down the road and deals with the fallout of Stiles losing both Jax and Juice.  
> Gif set: [the man in the woods](https://stilinski-ortiz-dolan.tumblr.com/post/183403152791/son-shine-verse-au-the-man-in-the-woods)

_"There's a man who lives deep in the woods._

_A man with hands dipped in red._

_The reaper visits him in his dreams._

_And the ghost of his lover takes his nightly confession."_

* * *

  
"The kids in town tell stories about me now," Stiles whispered to the shadows of the darkened cabin. "They sneak out here sometimes to listen to me chat up my dead husband in the middle of the night."  
  
"I find that offensive," The shadows spoke, taking the form of a familiar face. "I'm not dead to you."  
  
"They think I'm a lunatic," Stiles huffed, picking at a loose thread on his sweatpants. "You know, the creepy guy who lives in the woods, who only comes to town if he has to."  
  
"You could go into town more often," Juice's spirit offered the obvious solution. "You could set them straight."  
  
"I don't think my presence would set anyone straight," Stiles wasn't sure if the towns opinion of him was entirely inaccurate. "They're afraid of me...maybe they have good reason to be."

"Why?" Juice reached out, his ice cold fingers stroking Stiles cheek, leaving goosebumps in their wake. "Hmm?"  
  
"I've done things, bad things," Stiles admitted, leaning into his husband's touch. "I don't even regret most of them."  
  
"What things?" Juice asked, sitting across from him at the table. "They can't be that bad if you don't regret them."  
  
"I killed people," The worst of it all was, he enjoyed some of it. "They all deserved it."  
  
"Why?" Juice questioned. "Why did they deserve it?"  
  
"They were evil," It was that simple. "They poisoned everything and everyone they touched. I had to fix it. I had to fix them."  
  
"Why you?"  
  
“I was the only one strong enough," No. No, that wasn't right, strength had nothing to do with it. "I was the only one dead enough to do it."  
  
"You're not dead, Stiles," Juice pressed a hand over Stiles heart, feeling it beat beneath his palm. "You're still here."  
  
"I'm just a beating heart and a bag of bones," The rest of it, the parts that made him human, his mind and his heart, his conscience, they were just gone. "Everything else is just gone. I lost it. And I think...I think it started when Jax gave me the patches off your kutte."

**[** **BETRAYAL IS UNFORGIVABLE** **]**

_He watched his brother shove a hand in the pocket of his kutte, rooting around until he found what he was looking for and held them out to Stiles._

“ _You should have these.” Jax told him, dropping the contents into Stiles palm._

_The "SONS OF ANARCHY' and 'MEN OF MAYHEM' patches glared up at him, signifying every call he hadn't answered from his dad and Patterson that day. They were the notification call from County he would be receiving soon. They were his brother's way of telling him Juice was dead and wasn't coming back._

**[** **//** **]**

"And then watching Jax kill himself," Fuck, that had nearly killed him. "And seeing the spectacle they made of his funeral..."

**[** **JAX** **]**

_John Teller had been dragged 178 yards after he was hit by a semi, his son Jackson missed that mark by a few feet. JT survived two days in a hospital before succumbing to his injuries, Jax was killed on impact. John Teller was alone the day he committed suicide on 580, Jackson had his brother at his side._  
  
"Don't follow me now."  
  
_Jax's words echoed in Stiles ears as he let Juice's bike drop carelessly to the ground on the side of the road. He bolted down the highway to the wreckage, ignoring the shouts from state troopers. He weaved around motorcycle debris and scraps of skin and bone, slowing only when what was left of his brother came into view._  
  
_"Jax..." Stiles whimpered his brother's name, collapsing to his knees beside his shattered remains._  
  
_Tears poured from his eyes as he combed trembling fingers through Jax's blood-matted hair. He leaned over the body, pressing his forehead to his brother's one last time. He could feel his brother's blood soak into his own skin and clothing, but it only made him hold onto him tighter._  
  
_The troopers didn't allow him to stay with Jax for long. They forced them apart, yanking Stiles away viciously. He didn't go easily or quietly, he kicked and screamed, shouted and threw punches. He did whatever he could to prevent them from separating him from his brother, even if only for a few moments._  
  
_Unfortunately, there were more of them than there were him, and eventually Stiles found himself face-down on the asphalt. They held him in place with a knee on his spine as they wrenched his arms behind his back and slapped metal bracelets around his wrists. He could only watch helplessly as EMTs surrounded his brother, blocking him from view._

**[ / ]**

_The funeral marked the first time Stiles crossed paths with anyone donning a kutte since the coroner took his brother away in his. It seemed every charter in the states had made their way to Charming to pay their respects to their fallen leader. It was all a little perplexing, considering Jax had murdered the Indian Hills charter president in cold blood, had been stripped of his patch, and had a mayhem vote handed down to him shortly before he took his own life. Their thought process on the matter wasn't Stiles business, he was just a civilian amongst the anarchists._  
  
_He tried to steer clear of anyone in a kutte at the service, drawing an invisible barrier between them and the three members of family he had left. However, Abel did not understand the lines purpose was to keep him safe. The little boy saw the reaper his father had worn proudly and ran off to join them, fitting himself at Chibs' side and letting visiting members fawn over him._  
  
_"This here is Jax's oldest boy," Chibs introduced the child to those who didn't know him. "Name's Abel."_  
  
_"Oh, Prince Charming," Rogue River's VP grinned, ruffling the boy's hair. "Our future king."_  
  
_It came off as a joke, the other SOA members chuckled and jested about being in the presence of royalty, but Stiles wasn't laughing. The thought of Abel taking up Jax's mantle, sitting at the gavel, and allowing its power to corrupt him made Stiles heart catch in his throat. It was his worst fear laid bare._

**[//]**

"But it was at your service, while I was delivering your eulogy, when I saw _them_ , that everything inside me went cold." Stiles shivered, remembering the day he'd put his husband in the ground. "I haven't been warm since."

**[** **JUICE** **]**

_The decision to take Juice's remains to Queens wasn't one Stiles made lightly. Stiles had no idea where he might end up, where life would one day leave him, but he wanted to rest easy knowing Juice would never be alone, even in death. Where Charming would have been the obvious choice, the club would sooner piss on his grave than lie flowers on it. Beacon Hills would have been nice, Stiles could have laid his husband to rest next to his mother, but the pair were strangers to each other. Stiles wanted to give Juice familiarity and comfort, and that meant Queens, because at least there he'd be close to family that loved him dearly despite the years of distance._  
  
_When they arrived at the church the morning of the service, Stiles kept himself out of the way, letting Juice's mother and siblings greet the other attendees. He wasn't trying to shirk off the responsibility, he was just all too aware that he was an outsider there, a stranger to everyone who knew Juice before. And, honestly, he did not want to deal with the onslaught of questions that would follow if he were to introduce himself as Juan Carlos' husband. So, he took himself out of the proverbial line of fire by taking his seat in a front row pew beside his father and nephews._  
  
_It wasn't until later, when he was at the pulpit, preparing to eulogize his husband that he noticed three members of SAMCRO had crashed the funeral. He had kept the details of Juice's service specifically from the club to prevent them from assuming they had a right to be there. To further drive home that point, he had left the disgustingly impersonal headstone the club had purchased in his husband's name on their chapel table. That particular gesture must have meant something different to them than it did him, because Chibs, Tig, and Happy were seated in the back row, having the gall to look as if they were in mourning._  
  
_Stiles fought not to let the clubs presence throw him off. He wouldn't allow them to ruin Juice's funeral as they'd done his life. He took a deep, steadying breath and forced his gaze away from the group, proceeding to do what he was up there to do._  
  
_"Um, I'm Stiles. I'm, uh, I'm, well, I was, um, I was married to Juic-- uh, Juan Carlos," Stiles stumbled awkwardly over his words as he addressed his husband's family and friends. "Um, Mrs. Ortiz asked me to deliver the eulogy."_  
  
_Initially, he had been reluctant where the eulogy was concerned, but had relented under Juice's mother's gentle prodding. He understood why she wanted it to be him, he was the only one who could fill in the last ten years of Juice's life for the rest of them. So, he'd obliged his mother-in-law and jotted down a few cute and humorous tidbits from Juice's time in Charming, however, with the club in the room, those bits suddenly felt as if they'd been dipped in poison._  
  
_"I wanted to get up here and tell you a funny story, because for a long time, Juan Carlos was considered the comic relief to his friends." He thought Juice might appreciate a joke or two, anything to put a smile on the faces of his family for a moment. "Like, uh, how he was totally unprepared for the record-high temperatures of a California summer and spent the whole season glued to the air conditioner, flat out refusing to step outside."_  
  
_It wasn't even a joke. Juice had seriously underestimated how hot California could get and how different that heat would feel from what he was used to in New York. He'd hibernated indoors his first summer, acting like a vampire that would disintegrate to ash in the natural light._  
  
_"Or I could tell you about something nice he did for someone else," There weren't a lot of opportunities for selfless acts for an outlaw, but Juice had managed it on occasion. "He rescued a one-eyes Shar Pei from its abusive owner and nursed it back to health. He named it Cheese, I have no idea why. He loved that dog, they were best buds. After our friend Opie passed away, Juan Carlos gave Cheese to Opie's mom, so she wouldn't be alone."_  
  
_They had stopped to check in on Mary one afternoon and just so happened to have Cheese with them. The Winston matriarch hadn't been well, losing Piney and Opie so close together had just about crippled her. Cheese must have sensed her grief, because he trotted right to her, leaning against her leg and whining softly. The older woman had perked up instantly at the canines attention, Juice had taken notice and relinquished the pup to her care without a fight._  
  
_"I want to tell you that story. I want to tell you about every happy memory I have with Juan Carlos, but I can't. I can't because his last few years, his last months, last weeks, last days, last_ **_hours_** , _were fraught with cruelty and pain and brutality you wouldn't subject your worst enemy to," Stiles pinned SAMCRO's reigning king with a stare. "If you ask his 'friends' from Charming that are here today, they'd tell you it was a mess of his own making. They won't take responsibility for the parts they played."_  
  
_He couldn't resist calling the club out. He hadn't planned to acknowledge them at all, but since they took it upon themselves to make the trip, he figured they should get their moneys worth._  
  
_"Juan Carlos joined a motorcycle club when he left Queens, I don't know if you knew that. It's how we met, actually, my older brother was a member," And that was the only mention of Jax Stiles had any intention of making. "Juan Carlos wasn't really suited for club life. My uncle Piney, also a member, said Juan Carlos was too sweet, too innocent."_  
  
_Piney hadn't wanted to vote Juice in or even let him prospect. He thought being an outlaw would strip every ounce of innocence from Juice, and he wanted to preserve that. Stiles never did find out what changed the old man's mind._  
  
_"Juan Carlos had a different temperament than the rest of the guys. He had a calmness about him," Juice's easy going nature was one of the things that drew Stiles to him in the first place. "His temper didn't flare at the drop of a hat, and his ego wasn't delicate in any way."_  
  
_Juice could fight, he was a brawler, but violence wasn't his first instinct._  
  
_"There were two things that really set him apart from the MC. Two," Stiles held up two fingers. "His conscience and his unwavering loyalty."_  
  
_Juice felt everything he and the club did. It sat heavily on his shoulders, weighed him down. He couldn't just shake things off like the others did. The club criticized him for it, called him a child for letting things get to him._  
  
_"If you asked the MC, they would tell you Juan Carlos was a traitor who turned his back on their precious patch," God, Stiles hated that stupid little reaper they wore so proudly. "That patch is what they are loyal to. They are loyal to a meaningless patch, while Juan Carlos was loyal to them."_  
  
_That was Juice's fatal error, caring for his club brothers over the reaper. Chibs, Tig, the rest of them, they worshiped a silly patch sewn onto cheap leather on their backs, and Juice worshiped them._  
  
_"Every betrayal they held against him was something he was forced to do to protect them," Juice had done so many things for the club at the expense of himself. "He protected them. He was loyal to them. He loved them and they killed him for it."_  
  
_Stiles would never delude himself into thinking anyone in SAMCRO felt guilty for what they'd done to Juice or what they'd had done to him. Feelings like remorse was not in there repertoire. They were just mindless drones, riding through life, feeding off the chaos and mayhem they created. It would all catch up them one day, Stiles would make sure of it._

**[ // ]**

"I knew then that the club needed to pay for what they'd done," The Sons had gotten away with so much for so long while the consequences of their actions landed on those around them. "I didn't know how yet. I didn't know it would be me. That all came later."  
  
"When?" Juice's soft voice urged him to continue. "When did you decide?"  
  
"When we came home," Upon their return from Queens, things had been made abundantly clearer as the fog of grief had begun to lift and was replaced by something darker. "We came home and I talked to Abel, and I realized the club already had such a tight hold on him."

**[** **ABEL** **]**

_Unpacking from the trip to Queens was a chore, but one that came with menial tasks such as laundry to keep him busy. He was shoving the kids' dirty clothes in the washer when the clank of metal on metal sounded. He reached into the machine tub, finding a bulky ring sitting at the bottom._  
  
_"' **SAMCRO** '..." Stiles smoothed a thumb over the etching on the jewelry._  
  
_"Uncle Stiles," Abel called out to him, appearing in the doorway, looking sleep mussed from his afternoon nap. "I'm hungry. Will you make me a snack?"_  
  
_"Y-Yeah, b-buddy," Stiles stammered, clutching the ring close to his chest. "In a minute."_  
  
_"Hey, that's mine!" The child snapped abruptly, making grabby-hands at the object. "Give it back!"_  
  
_"It's yours?"_  
  
_"Grandma gave it to me. She said it was my grandpa's," Abel told him, pangs of grief flickering over his young features. "She said I'd wear it when I joined Daddy's club."_  
  
_"No. No, you won't," Stiles curled his fingers around the ring, wishing he had the strength to crush it in his palm. "You are never going to be a part of that club, not ever."_  
  
_"Yes, I am," The child declared petulantly, chin lifted in stubborn defiance. "I'm gonna be president of it all one day, just like Daddy. His friends told me so."_  
  
_"Yeah, well, they lied to you. They're liars," Along with a few other things Stiles didn't feel comfortable saying to someone under the age of ten. "You are not going to lead the Sons of Anarchy, you're not even going to be a member. If I have my way, you will never see a member of that club ever again. Is that understood?"_  
  
_"No!" Abel shouted, stomping his foot. "That was my daddy's club--"_  
  
_"Your daddy is dead, the club killed him." Jax's own decisions may have led him down 580, but the club wasn't blameless, neither was he, they all played their part. "They killed him and Uncle Juice, Uncle Opie, Piney--"_  
  
_"No, they didn't!" Abel yelled, face flushed red with anger, small hands clenched into fists at his side. "They wouldn't do that! They loved my daddy!"_  
  
_"They don't love anything or anyone. All they do is hurt people." It had taken Stiles far too long to come to terms with that. "And I will never let them turn you into what they are. I promise you, Abel, you will never be SAMCRO, not as long as I am still breathing."_  
  
_"When I'm bigger, you won't be able to stop me," Abel snarled, looking remarkably like his father. "I'll be with them, and I'll be just like my daddy."_  
  
_"You're wrong, Abel," Stiles would spend the rest of his life preventing that from ever coming to pass. "By the time you're old enough to prospect, the Sons of Anarchy won't even exist anymore."_

**[ // ]**

"That's when I decided it would be me," Stiles had accepted his mission readily when he realized just what was at stake. "I wasn't going to let the club have Abel or Thomas or Opie's kids. I wasn't going to let them destroy more lives."  
  
"What did you do, Stiles?"  
  
"I fixed it. I fixed them. I made it safe," He did what JT and Jax were too weak to do. "You know that, Juice. You've heard the story before, you hear it every night."  
  
"Tell me again." 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unbeta'd.  
> Warnings: Violence, Major Character Deaths, Mentions of Past Rape/Non-con.  
> Gif set: [stiles & chibs](https://stilinski-ortiz-dolan.tumblr.com/post/183401970096/son-shine-verse-au-the-man-in-the-woods-stiles), [stiles & tully](https://stilinski-ortiz-dolan.tumblr.com/post/183403292871/son-shine-verse-au-the-man-in-the-woods-stiles)  
> *Keep in mind that Stiles is reacting out of grief and fear not rationality.

"You know, Happy was always real nice to me. When I was little, he'd used to bring matchbox cars when he'd visit from Tacoma. I didn't...I didn't want to hurt him," Stiles had gone to Happy with the intention of reasoning with him not harming him. "I didn't want to hurt him. He didn't deserve it like the others did."  
  
"What do you mean?" Juice questioned, his ghost lighting up a cigarette from the pack on the table.  
  
"Happy was a soldier. He followed orders without question or explanation," Stiles doubted Happy was aware of the motives behind any, if not all, of the things the club tasked him to do. "I tried to tell him, I-I tried to tell him everything Jax lied about. I told him everything that happened that never made it to the table. He just...he didn't believe me."  
  
"His loyalty to Jax and the club blinded him," Juice remarked woefully. "Mine did too."  
  
"I didn't want to hurt him," Stiles repeated, tears of remorse burning his eyes. "But he wouldn't listen, and I couldn't let him go, he'd warn the other, or-or he'd try to stop me."  
  
"So you killed him."  
  
"He let me do it."

**[ HAPPY ]**

_"Why can't you just believe me?" Stiles pleaded with the Son. "Jax wasn't who you thought he was. Chibs and Tig, they aren't who they pretend to be."_  
  
_"They're family," Happy grunted, his usual blank expression morphing into something akin to pity. "I know them."_  
  
_"You know who they want you to think they are," Stiles snarled, his frustration mounting. "It's a lie. It's all a lie."_  
  
_"I don't believe that, but you do," Happy acknowledged with a heavy sigh. "If I were you, if I believed, I'd be doing what you're doing. I understand why you're here, Stiles."_  
  
_"I don't want to hurt you," Stiles hands shook as he took the gun from his waistband. "But I can't let you stop me."_  
  
_"I'm not going to stop you," Happy claimed, taking his own gun from its holster and setting it on the coffee table in front of him. "I told you, I understand."_  
  
_"I won't let you warn them," If the rest of the club found out what he was doing, he'd be dead before dawn._  
  
_"I won't," Happy said, taking the knife from his belt, placing it beside his gun. "Because you're going to level that gun at my head and pull the trigger."_  
  
_"W-What?" Stiles faltered, his heart hammering painfully in his chest. "I don't under-understand."_  
  
_"I told you, I get it," Happy maintained, a hint of sympathy in his voice. "If I believed the things you do, I'd be doing to same thing."_  
  
_"This is a trick--_ "  
  
_"No tricks," Happy lifted his shirt, showing he was unarmed._  
  
_"I don't want to hurt you," Still, though, he lifted the gun and trained it on the older man. "I really don't. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."_  
  
_"No guilt. It's okay, Stiles," Happy said firmly, having already accepted his fate. "It's what we do."_  
  
_"I'm sorry."_

**[ // ]**

"Tig was next. He was the easiest, you know," For Stiles, Tig's end was a long time coming." I'd wanted to see him meet Mr. Mayhem since I found out he killed Donna."  
  
"You're not Mr. Mayhem, Stiles." Juice scowled at the very thought of it. "Mayhem is a club vote, you were never a member."  
  
"That's what made me perfect for it," Stiles could do the job without bonds of brotherhood getting in the way. "I could be objective, the club couldn't."  
  
"You were being objective when you chose to kill Tig?" Juice raised an unimpressed brow, obviously not buying it.  
  
"I know it may not seem like it, but I didn't choose to do any of it on a whim," Stiles wasn't so far gone that he killed just for the sake of killing. "I went over it all in my head and thousand times. Death wasn't my first choice, but it is the one that would save the most lives in the long run."  
  
"After Happy, Tig would've been on alert," Juice reasoned. "He probably thought it was another club retaliating--"  
  
"No, see, because I wanted them to know it was me. I know it was stupid, but I wanted them to know they were being hunted. I wanted them to feel the same fear you felt before...." Stiles trailed off, swallowing the lump that had formed in his throat at thought of his husband's last days. "I left an old club photo on Happy's coffee table, X'd out those who were already dead."  
  
"If Tig knew you were coming, he wouldn't have made it easy for you."  
  
"No, he wouldn't. I had to get to him quick, too, in case he decided to do something stupid like go after my dad or the boys to get to me," Stiles wasn't about to let what was left of his family get hurt because of his vendetta. "I found him at Scoops. He saw me coming. He came outside to meet me. I guess he didn't want to make a mess of the ice cream shop."  
  
"He wouldn't just let you kill him like Happy did," Juice refuted any ideas of Tig going down without a fight. "Tig's not built that way. He would've fought back. He would've tried to kill you first."  
  
"Tig was always predictable that way. It's what made him an easy kill."

**[ TIG ]**

_He took Tig's life on a brisk fall morning while the farmer's market was in full swing. The older man was waiting for him outside, having clocked him half a block down. He was alone, his fellow Sons absent, unaware that their VP was in danger, or perhaps Tig was just confident he didn't need them, a grave mistake on his part._  
  
_Unlike his 'visit' with Happy, Stiles didn't try to make Tig understand what was happening or why. Contrary to popular belief, Tig wasn't stupid, he knew the sins of his past would catch up with him one day. Out of everyone in SAMCRO, except maybe Jax, Tig was the most deserving of death, and Stiles would give him exactly what he deserved._  
  
_Stiles took his pistol from the pocket of his jacket as he neared the biker. There was a cocky glint in Tig's eye as he caught sight of the weapon, like he thought Stiles wouldn't have the guts to use it. Stiles proved him wrong by unloading four shots into his chest at close range._  
  
_Tig hit Scoop's display window with a sickening thud, his body slumping down onto the sidewalk. Distantly, Stiles could hear the police sirens, the shouts and screams from the farmer's market patrons, but it was all muted beneath the sound of Tig's ragged breathing._  
  
_"W-Why?" Tig choked out, hands pressed against his wounds in a useless attempt to staunch the bleeding. "Why?"_  
  
_"You want a list?" Stiles scoffed, leveling the gun with Tig's forehead. "Donna, Opie, Juice."_

**[ // ]**

"You enjoyed it," Juice deduced, a worried furrow to his brow. "Didn't you?"  
  
"Yeah," Stiles ducked his head in shame, but couldn’t hide the smile tugging at his lips. "Yeah, with Tig I enjoyed it. I'd been waiting so long for it."  
  
"Doing it in public is bold," Juice commented. "Risky."  
  
"I was arrested for it, but that's okay," Even his arrest worked in his benefit. "They sent me to Stockton to await trial. It got me close to someone else who needed to die."

**[ TULLY ]**

_Stiles sought Tully out his first day inside, found him in the cafeteria during dinner, surrounded by his nazi brethren. Stiles had marched right up to them and dropped his tray on the table, elbowing his way into a seat across from the man who'd killed his husband. The AB shot collar looked surprised for all of half a second, before recognition set in._  
  
_"The pretty Puerto Rican's piece of ass," Tully whistled, holding up a hand to stop his men from making a move against Stiles. "Oh, I remember you."_  
  
_"I was hoping you might," It would all go a lot smoother if he didn't have to explain himself. "Do you know why I'm here?"_  
  
_"Retribution. Retaliation." Tully mused, relaxing back in his seat, like he didn't have a care in the world. "You've been waiting a long time for this."_  
  
_"I'm a patient man," Stiles would have waited decades for the right moment to present itself if he had to. "I believe it all comes around in the end."_  
  
_"Not just for me, though, right?" Tully surmised, tilting his head to the side. "Word on the block is someone's been executing high-ranking, long time members of SAMCRO."_  
  
_"They're just as guilty as you are, if not more so," Stiles wasn't ignorant to the facts, he knew Tully was a weapon Jax had used to punish Juice, but the club okay'd it, they voted to have Juice raped, brutalized by the monster sitting in front of him. "They don't get a free pass just because they used to be family."_  
  
_"I like the way you think, kid, I really do," Tully chuckled, smiling languidly. "You got a lot more fire than your old man did."_  
  
_"You shouldn't talk about him," Stiles resisted the urge to take the plastic spork from his tray and jam it in the bastard's eye, that would be too public, too messy. "You should finish your meal."_  
  
_"Should I?"_  
  
_"Yes," Stiles nodded, recalling what Tully had said to him the last time they shared the space,_ ‘His last gift to you, sweetheart.’ _"Consider it my gift to you,_ _**sweetheart**."_  
  
_"I have a gift for you, too," Tully revealed, licking his lips. "When I give it to you, if you take it as good as the pretty Puerto Rican did, I'll give you something to ease the burn next time."_

**[ // ]**

"Stop," Juice clapped his hands over his ears. "Please stop. I can't stand the thought of him hurting you."  
  
"He never touched me," Stiles had taken the threat seriously, had prepared for it even, physically anyway, even made himself believe he could handle it if Tully overpowered him. "I promise he never laid a finger on me."  
  
"Because you killed him before he could?" Juice sounded almost hopeful at the prospect, it was better than the alternative.  
  
"No, not me," At times, Stiles alternated between being grateful and enraged the kill had been stolen from him.

**[ TULLY ]**

_Stiles wound up in protective custody for two reasons: he was a cops son and Jax Teller's brother, both of which put targets on his back. Of course, anyone who'd been in P.C. knew if you had enough money to grease the guards you could get to anyone. Stiles didn't have money, but Tully did and he showed up just like he said he would._  
  
_It had been lights out for some time when the door to Stiles cell swung open, allowing his husband's tormentor to sashay in unrestricted. Tully stood over him like a dark shadow, a sadistic grin on his face. Panic shot through Stiles as his blanket was ripped off him and his hips were straddled. He clenched his eyes shut, feeling Tully's hot breath on his cheek. He balled his hands into fists, ready to swing them at the bastard to defend himself, but he never got the chance._  
  
_A sudden 'thwap, thwap, thwap,' followed by pained grunts from his attacker forced Stiles eyes open. Tully's ghostly pale face was frozen in an expression of shock, while the right side of his shirt was soaked in blood. Stiles jerked upward, knocking Tully off him and onto the floor._  
  
_"Holy shit!" Stiles shrieked, eyes darting from Tully to the elderly man standing just beside the cot with a blood-covered shiv. "Who the hell are you?"_  
  
_"Lenny Janowitz." The man replied, placing two fingers over the hole in his throat to speak more clearly._  
  
_"Janowitz..." The name rung a vague bell in Stiles mind. "You're, uh, you're a Son, um, a member of the Sons of Anarchy."_  
  
_"I was," The man confirmed. "You're Jax Teller's little brother, right? Gemma's youngest boy?"_  
  
_"Yes, sir." SOA member or not the man was still his elder and had just saved Stiles ass, literally, so he would be as respectful as he could manage._  
  
_"That Puerto Rican kid they sent in here to take out Lin, you were his, right?"_  
  
_"He has a name." Stiles barked at the man._  
  
_"Sorry, son, his time with the club started after I got locked up in here," Lenny shrugged his shoulders. "Never met him, so I never caught his name."_  
  
_"Then how do you know I belonged to him?" Stiles questioned, suddenly suspicious of the old man's motives. "Did Chibs task you to kill me?"_  
  
_"Your brother tasked me to kill him," Lenny kicked at Tully's lifeless body. "If you ever came to do it yourself."_  
  
_"I don't understand."_  
  
_"Before he died, Jax came to see me, told me eventually you might come looking to right a wrong done to your old man," Lenny revealed plans Jax had made. "Asked me to step in if that were the case."_  
  
_"Right a wrong..." Stiles snorted derisively, anger burning in his chest. "Do you have any idea what this son of a bitch did to Juice? What my brother okay'd him to do? That wasn't just a wrong!"_  
  
_"It was evil in it's purest form," Lenny determined, pocketing the shiv. "In my day, the club wouldn't order such things to done to their worst enemy, let alone a member of our own club, rat or not."_  
  
_"Yeah, well, the club you knew is dead," Stiles reported, scrubbing a hand down his face. "What it once was is dead and what it is now will be soon."_  
  
_"Taking out the Redwood Original's ain't gonna fix the problem, son," Lenny said despairingly. "It runs deeper than that. The entire damn wells been poisoned."_

**[ // ]**

"Not long after that, my case went to trial," Stiles always suspected his father pulled some strings to get his trial date moved up. "My lawyer argued that I was disturbed, unstable, that I'd had some sort of psychological breakdown after...well, everything."  
  
"There's definitely some truth to that." Juice muttered under his breath.  
  
"Yeah, the court shrinks thought so too," Honestly, Stiles hadn't paid much attention during his hearing, he was too focused on what he would do when he got out. "I guess they decided I wasn't fit to stand trial. They shipped my ass back to Eichen House until I could prove I wasn’t bat shit. I was there a couple years."  
  
"Only a couple?" Juice snarked.  
  
"You know, I don't appreciate the lip from you," Stiles glowered at the ghost of his husband. "I really don't."  
  
"Now that's a lie, you love my lips," Juice joked with a wry smile. "So, after you were released from Eichen House, you went after Chibs?"  
  
"Those years I was inside, they made Chibs relax," Stiles chuckled darkly. "He actually thought he was safe, but he was still hiding."

**[ CHIBS ]**

_Shortly after his release, a SAMCRO-adjacent contact had directed Stiles to Belfast in his search for Chibs-- apparently, the Scotsman had run to his girls for comfort after losing Tig and Happy. Once Stiles had the general location, it wasn't hard to figure out where the deserter was holed up. Chibs had chosen the obvious safe haven, the SAMBEL clubhouse, because even without the patch, he couldn't deny the pull of reaper._  
  
_Stiles loitered in the alley across the street, watching club members and croweaters come and go throughout the day. Not needing an audience of twitchy fingers, he waited until he was confident Chibs was alone before he breached the clubhouse. He found Chibs slouched over the bar, a bottle of scotch clutched in his hands._  
  
_"I've felt a chill all day," Chibs mentioned conversationally as Stiles made his way across the room. "I ignored it, because I thought it'd be a few decades before they decided you were no longer a danger to society."_  
  
_"And I thought you would've had me killed while I was in Stockton," He had expected the clubs retaliation during his stay at county, but the killing blow had never come. "I've always wondered why you'd spare me. Is it because I'm Jax's brother or is it guilt?"_  
  
_"Guilt?" Chibs raised a brow. "Over Juice?"_  
  
_"Over letting Juice be brutalized in prison," Stiles replied, sliding into the stool next to the older man. "Over what you let happen to Jax."_  
  
_"Jax killed himself. You were there, you know that," Chibs scowled at him. "It was his choice."_  
  
_"He may have steered that bike, but you and the rest of the club certainly gave him a push," Stiles had a lot of time to think about it in Eichen House, and his shrinks had some very enlightening opinions on the subject. "You wanted to be king so badly that you allowed Jax to lose his mind so you could steal the crown."_  
  
_"What the hell are you even talking about?"_  
  
_"Jax wasn't in his right mind after losing Tara, but you didn't care, none of you did," They all stood by and watched as Jax destroyed himself and their club. "You let him start war after war without lifting a finger to stop him. You got a table full of people that are supposed to make decisions as a group so everyone stays in check, but you guys never once questioned what Jax was doing."_  
  
_"Nobody could stop Jax from doing anything," Chibs growled, taking a swig from the bottle. "He had his heart set on war, and with us by his side at least he had a chance of surviving it."_  
  
_"And if he didn't, at least then you'd be president."_  
  
_"You think I wanted Jax to die?" Chibs glared at him, expression darkening. "You think I--"_  
  
_"I think you wanted the gavel, the power to make the club what you thought it should be. You wanted it so badly that you let the king go mad to get it," It was the same thing Clay had done to JT and Jax had done to Clay. "Was it worth it?"_  
  
_"You got no idea what you're talking about." Chibs huffed, shaking his head._  
  
_"Where's your club now, Chibs?" Stiles asked, slipping the bottle of scotch from Chibs grasp, moving it out of reach. "Where are your brothers now, when you really need them?"_  
  
_"You killed them all."_  
  
_"Oh, no, not all," There were still plenty of reapers awaiting mayhem. "Not yet."_  
  
_"SAMCRO's finished," Chibs grumbled, rubbing the spot on his left shoulder where the clubs mark was inked into his skin. "After you knocked off Tig and Happy, the prospects ran scared."_  
  
_"So did you," Stiles pointed out, gesturing to the foreign club house._  
  
_"The charter you hold responsible for Juice and Jax, it's gone. It's done. It's finished, you made sure of that." Chibs said grimly. "You killed men who loved you like a brother. Once you kill me, you'll have gotten your revenge. I hope you're fucking happy."_  
  
_"There's no satisfaction in what I'm doing, Chibs, and this isn't about retribution." The need for revenge had passed some time ago. What Stiles was doing wasn't for him, it was for the greater good. "This isn't about SAMCRO. This isn't about **one** charter."_  
  
_"You're going after other charters..." Chibs realized, horror painting his features. "They got nothing to do with Jax or Juicy--"_  
  
_"One day, Abel and Thomas are going to go looking for a connection to their dad, and they'll look for it with the Sons of Anarchy. I'm going to make sure there is nothing for them to find, no one for them to connect with," It might take the rest of his life, but Stiles wouldn't stop until he knew his nephews could never repeat their father's mistakes. "I'm gonna burn the entire club to the ground...starting with SAMCRO."_  
  
_"Jesus Christ, boy," Chibs dropped his head into his hands. "You've really lost it, haven't you?"_  
  
_"I wake up every morning knowing my brother and men I considered family had my husband brutally raped and murdered. I goto sleep every night watching my brother execute our mother and kill himself," Stiles couldn't escape the horrors of his life. "So you'll have to forgive me if my sanity isn't in peak condition."_  
  
_"They shouldn't have let you out of that hospital," Chibs sighed, lifting his head to meet Stiles eyes. "You can't take on the whole club, Stiles, they don't deserve it. And, you know, you might get a few of them, but eventually, one of 'em will get you."_  
  
_"That's okay. I'm okay with that," He was prepared to die for the cause if necessary, but he wouldn't go down without a fight. "At least I'll know I did everything I could to protect those boys."_  
  
_“I'll never understand how so many devils could come from one bloodline," Chibs sneered, eyes red with unshed tears. "Gemma, Jax, you...I don't understand."_  
  
_"And I'll never understand how you could've turned Juice away when he came to you for help. He was desperate, he sought out his best friend, his brother for help, and you told him to kill himself," Stiles retorted as he took his gun from its holster and set it on the bar. "Y-You told him to **kill himself**."_  
  
_"I know what I said!" Chibs snapped, smacking his hand on the bar. "There were factors--"_  
  
_"There were lies, Jax's lies," He wondered if, by the end, even Jax could keep them all straight. "You were so blind where Jax was concerned that you took everything he said for truth without questioning it."_  
  
_"What do you want me to do, kid? Huh?" Chibs snarled. "I made mistakes, we all did. Can't go back and change them."_  
  
_"You're right, we can't change them, but we do still have to pay for them," Stiles acknowledged, sliding the gun closer to the Scotsman. "All those years ago, in that diner, you told Juice to put that gun in his mouth and pull the trigger."_  
  
_"Aye," Chibs confessed. "I did."_  
  
_"Would you believe me if I said it was the same gun?" It had been with Juice's personal effects, and Stiles had kept it safe all these years. "I killed Happy with Jax's gun, Tig with one that belonged to Piney. This one I've been saving for you. I want you to put it in your mouth and pull the trigger, just like you told Juice to do."_  
  
_"No," Chibs pushed the weapon back to Stiles. "You want me dead, be a man and do it yourself."_

 _"Okay," Stiles smiled sadly, ignoring the gun entirely. "Did you know the triad gang-raped Juice in the infirmary? While he was there, he stole a scalpel, and later that day, he handed that scalpel to Tully in the cafeteria, it's what Tully killed him with. He stabbed him right in the neck."_  
  
_"Why are you telling me this?"_  
  
_"It took minutes for Juice to bleed out on that cafeteria floor," Stiles took a scalpel of his own from his pocket. "I'd like to kill you with his gun, but it'd be over too quick. And I want...I want you to feel what he felt."_

**[ // ]**

"I still haven't gotten the whole club. The Sons of Anarchy still stands. Misguided men still wear the reaper with pride." The Redwood Original's disbanded when Chibs fled and had yet to be replaced, Stiles took solace in that. "It's not what it used to be, though, 'cause they know the moment one of them steps out of line, I'll be there to set them straight."


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unbeta'd.  
> Gif set: [field of vision](https://stilinski-ortiz-dolan.tumblr.com/post/183401933611/son-shine-verse-au-the-man-in-the-woods-field-of)

"I understand why you did what you did, but I don't like that you did it in my name," Juice murmured, stubbing out his cigarette. "It's not who I was. It's not who I ever wanted you to be."  
  
"I'm sorry," Stiles bowed his head, unable to meet his husband's disapproving gaze. "It's just...I had to. It was the only way to be sure Abel and Thomas would be safe from the club."  
  
"And what do they think of all this?" Juice questioned curiously, reaching across the table to cover Stiles quivering hands with his own. "They're old enough to understand now."  
  
"I haven't seen much of them since they were little," Stiles had left the boys in his father's care when he'd decided to go after the club, and for their safety he'd kept his distance, checking in through phone calls and the occasional email. "They probably hate me, resent me for not being around, and that's okay, because in a way, I chose SAMCRO over them too."  
  
That was the truth of it, wasn't it? He'd given up his life for a club he never wanted to be a part of. He'd traded time with his nephews to hunt the club that had stolen everything away from them. He'd broken his promises to Jax and Tara, abandoning the boys he'd sworn to care for.  
  
"Stiles," Juice's soothing voice called out to him. "Are you all right?"  
  
“I'm fine," He shook his head, trying to rid himself of feelings of regret. "I'm fine."  
  
"You're exhausted," Juice determined, rising from his seat. "You always are after our talks."  
  
"No. No, I'm fine," Stiles insisted, even as he let Juice help him from his chair. "Please, I-I don't want to goto sleep. Don't make me goto sleep."  
  
"It's okay, Stiles, ssh,” Juice hushed him, ushering him over to the bed pushed against the wall. "A little sleep won't hurt you."  
  
"You're wrong," Sleep always left Stiles feeling battered and bruised. "Jax is there. He's always there."  
  
"What does he do?"  
  
"He just stares at me."  
  
His nightly visits with Jax always started the same way, with Juice guiding Stiles to sleep with comforting words. When he finally closed his eyes and succumbed to exhaustion, he'd awaken in a cemetery full of headstones with familiar names. Jax would always be standing on his own grave, peering down at Stiles with an unreadable expression.  
  
"His face changes, you know. Sometimes it's...it's just a skull," It was still Jax's body, it still wore his kutte, and matched his signature stance, it was still very much Stiles brother. "I know it's crazy, but I think he's a reaper, like my own personal grim reaper. I think he's waiting for me."  
  
"Why do you think that?" Juice asked, pushing back the comforter on the bed and nudging Stiles until he lied down.  
  
"Because there's a headstone with my name on it," ' _Mieczysław_ _Nathaniel Thomas Stilinski_ ', it read, ' _Born: April 08, 1996_ '. "There's no death date, but I think...I think Jax wants me to go with him."  
  
"Do you want to go with him?" Juice inquired, climbing onto the bed beside him. "Are you ready to go?"  
  
"I want to stay with you," Stiles couldn't be sure, but somehow he knew if he followed Jax, he would never see his husband again. "Can I stay with you?"  
  
"Of course you can," Juice smiled, pressing a kiss to his temple. "We'll stay here together. You can be the crazy guy in the woods the kids in town talk about, and I'll be the ghost you confess your sins to."

* * *

 

Stiles was curled up on the bed in the corner of the cabin, talking lowly to himself. He seemed oblivious to anyone's presence outside his own and whomever he thought he was speaking to. It would be odd if it hadn't been his normal behavior for the last decade and a half.  
  
"He seems calmer today," John noted, observing his son. "The new meds seem to be working."  
  
"I don't know if it's the meds or Juice," Gemma muttered as she cleared dinner plates from the table. "He always settles when he's seeing Juice. It's worse at night, that's when the screaming starts."  
  
"That's when he sees Jax," John had witnessed more than a few of Stiles' Jax-related night terrors. "If it's becoming too much for you--"  
  
"It's not," Gemma assured him. "We can't put him back in that hospital."  
  
"I know."  
  
Stiles hadn't been well since that day on 580 when he clutched Jax's body, sobbing out _"I can fix it. It's okay. I can fix it."_ , while he trembled and shook. It had taken four officers to remove him from the scene, and a heavy sedative at St. Thomas to get him calm. It was a psychological evaluation at St. Thomas that led Stiles back to Eichen House, and over the course of the months he was there, his mental health only deteriorated further until he became unresponsive to those around him, preferring the company of the dead.

**[ STILES ]**

_"In response to the trauma he suffered, he created a fictionalized world for himself where he slayed the metaphorical dragons that hurt his family," The counselor, Ms. Morrell, interpreted the complexities of Stiles current condition for him. "His husband is his reward. He's fully aware Juan Carlos is dead, even in the world he's created for himself that fact remains the same, but the idea that he's talking to his spirit brings him a measure of comfort."_  
  
_"For him to get so lost in this fictional world, one of his own making, I'd expect it to be better than the one we're living in," He could understand it more if it were a better place. "But in that world, everyone is still gone, and there's even more death."_  
  
_"If his fictional reality deviated too far from our reality, it would kill the illusion. In the real world, Juan Carlos is dead. Stiles knows that in our world, he will never see or speak to his husband again." Morrell explained. "In his fictional world, he can speak to Juan Carlos's ghost, which, after dealing with werewolves and nogitsunes, doesn't feel too far fetched. His reality is real enough to feel real."_  
  
_"But he's isolated himself," The only people Stiles interacted with in that world were Juice and Jax, no one else. "To feel real, shouldn't there be...more?"_  
  
_"It's his penance, his punishment. Despite how evil his dragons were, he knows killing them was wrong, and that it would make him no better than they were," Morrell shed light on one of the many things John struggled understand regarding his son’s illness. "He's isolated himself to protect the family he has left from his own perceived evil."_  
  
_"That sounds familiar," It was reminiscent of Stiles dragging himself into a coyote den on the coldest night of the year when the nogitsune was possessing his body. "When can I take him home?"_  
  
_"Oh, I don't recommend that." Morrell put a pin in that idea. "While he's passive a good amount of the time, he does have violent outbursts on occasion. He's gone as far as to attack an orderly with a scalpel."_  
  
_"Yes, I remember," They were still unclear on how Stiles had gotten a hold of a scalpel to begin with. "But I can take care of him at home."_  
  
_"You have two small children in your home, yes?" Morrell questioned, shutting the door to Stiles room so they could talk privately. "Stiles nephews through his half-brother?"_  
  
_"Yes," John had taken custody of them after Stiles was admitted to the hospital. "Stiles would never hurt them."_  
  
_"There's no way you can know that. His outbursts aren't something we can predict."_  
  
_"Well, I can't just leave him here," He hadn't wanted to leave Stiles there when they thought he had dementia, and he should have trusted those instincts. He wasn't going to make the same mistake twice. "I'm not going to leave my son to rot in some hospital, especially this one."_  
  
_"Stiles needs around the clock supervision, whether he's in the hospital or not," Morrell informed him. "With two young boys in your charge and a full time job, you can't be there to watch him all the time. Now, if you had someone, a family member preferably, or a home care aide--"_  
  
_"I can't afford to hire someone," He was drowning in hospital bills as it was. "And we're a little short on family."_  
  
_"What about Ms. Madock?" Morrell asked, reading the name off a sheet of paper pinned to Stiles chart. "Stiles checked her in downstairs the night before his brother's suicide. Aside from some superficial cuts on her arms, I can't seem to find a discernable reason for her to be here."_  
  
_"Madock...Gemma..." John could hardly be surprised, after all, her body had never been recovered and the only evidence pointing to her death was a pool of blood at the scene and Jax's confession. "If there's no reason for her to be here, why are you holding her? That's not legal--"_  
  
_"Legally, we can't hold Peter Hale either, given that he's legally dead, but we've got him downstairs too," Morrell brushed off any concerns of impropriety. "We have a secret downstairs level for special cases, supernatural cases, usually. Stiles convinced Dr. Fenris to make an exception for Ms. Madock."_

 _"As an officer of the law, I'm going to pretend I didn't hear any of that," John huffed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "So, Gemma's alive and she's downstairs. Jesus."_  
  
_"Ms. Madock has spoken about Stiles in our sessions. She claims to be his biological mother," Morrell reported, tone lacking the judgmental lit he'd become accustomed to when Stiles true connection to Gemma was revealed. "Although they seem to have their problems, I believe she cares about him very deeply. Is she someone you would trust to care for him?"_  
  
_"I haven't trusted Gemma where Stiles was concerned since the day he was born," However, given the time that had passed and the current circumstances, one could argue she was the lesser of evils here. "But...he's the only child she has left, and at this point I think she would appreciate the chance to fix some of the damage she's done."_

**[ // ]**

"He's better here," Gemma noted, referring to the cabin she and Stiles now called home. "Less agitated. His outbursts aren't as bad, and they're less frequent."  
  
"I know," His son's violent tendencies had tapered off, but only as he withdrew further into himself and the fictional world he'd created. "He's not angry anymore. He's just...sad. His visions of Juice are the only things that bring him comfort."  
  
"Maybe the boys could help," Gemma suggested, and not for the first time. "Seeing Abel and Thomas--"  
  
"He's seen them, it changed nothing." If anything, the visit had done more harm than good. "It broke the boys' hearts to see him like this. They're fully grown now, but they still don't really understand."  
  
"I want to see my grandchildren, Johnny."  
  
"I know you do," He'd even go as far as to say she'd earned the right to at least one face-to-face with the children after all these years. "But it can't...it can't be right now. Stiles needs you. He has to be your priority."  
  
"He is," Gemma declared resolutely, gazing at their son with concern in her eyes. "You know, I don't even think he knows I'm here anymore. There were moments of lucidity at first, a few seconds where he'd look at me and see me, but now...."  
  
"We exist just outside his field of vision," John remarked solemnly. "I like to think we'll get him back one day, that he's strong enough to make it through anything, but I'd understand if he didn't. He's lost so much in his life, and there's such a thing as too much."  
  
"If he comes through it or if he doesn't, we'll take care of him," Gemma declared, leaning her head against John's shoulder. "There isn't anyone on the planet that can care for him the way we can. And I don't care how bad it gets, he's never going back to that hospital."  
  
"No more hospitals," John agreed, draping an arm around Gemma's shoulders. "Us and this cabin. That's his life now."  
  
"It's been his life for nearly two decades," Gemma reminded him. "You know those kids from town have been sneaking out here again. I can hear the little fuckers snickering outside the window while he talks to himself."  
  
"Yeah, I know," John had heard the stories around town. "They're too young to know who he is, to know he's my son, so they just call him _'the man in the woods_.'"


End file.
